Annie is a lassie from Lancashire, at heart, but a traveler, too, who enjoys people as well as places. She writes (poems – as you can see), paints (acrylics), draws (chalk pastels) and montages. Not a singer (no Gracie), but a writer of Songs (at Midnight). And for fun and charity, she may drop in on you, abseiling from height.

Ian is a Londoner by birth, who has spent most of his life either getting to know the place or getting away from it. He now lives in Perth, Western Australia, which is about as far away as you can get, but he returns to the United Kingdom regularly for a fix of his English/Scottish/Welsh heritage.

aaeiinnn is Annie and Ian’s shared persona. She/he has no being except in these pages; no gender; no place. He/she is a virtual being, borne of the internet. Like all complex constructs, the outcome could not have been predicted from the components. The whole is truly more than the sum of the parts. See all at our redbubble site.

Journal

Annie and Ian have been working together on a book for a long time now. Amazing how long the last editing can take! Well – at last – it has seen the light of day as Near and Far a book of pictorial poetry – click on the cover below and you can see a preview of the first part of the book.

we remain friends without contact for ..well…could be weeks, months or years… i have been so saddened by the death of trisha [known as pagley 4u] and then trying to keep the group we started together afloat. jason and i have had such great care and love shown us by the members but today i decided to come over to aaeiinnn to check out a few names and places… so watch out folks…

am now trying to put my contributions to red bubble under my own name [this is joint with ian] / so anyone interested can find me as / annieannie / so if you go offf my watchlist here you will find yourself on my annieannie / xx

For me this is the loveliest poem / A sonnet by Christina Rossetti / If I could trust mine own self with your fate, / Shall I not rather trust it in Gods hand? / Without Whose Will one lily doth not stand, / Nor sparrow fall at his appointed date; / Who numbereth the innumerable sand, / Who weighs the wind and water with a weight, / To Whom the world is neither small nor great, / Whose knowledge …